And It Burns 150 Calories an Hour
by Galsan Blit
Summary: The Stargate SG:1 team have some weird Gate malfunctions...and end up on the Heart of Gold!


And it Burns 150 Calories an Hour!  
By: Leenie Jackson/Galsan Blit/ Kira Nerys/ Collzort/ Ford Prefect  
  
  
  
Preface to the Preface  
Well, this is my first all late-night story, which means you might not be able  
to comprehend it. All the parts that I have put up here were written past  
10:00 pm. It's kinda weird, cos I switch styles of writing from the SGC to the  
HOG, and also I haven't done ANY research for it, and I have been MSTing my  
own story as I write it -the number of MSTings depend on how late it is when I  
write that particular part of the story - oh, and any part in brackets is my  
MSTing -, so the cheesy parts are meant to be cheesy!!! And there are some  
inside jokes (with the Messhall Chorus, The XFFF, etc.), so...yeah. The  
Preface is so you can see the creative process that I went through when I  
first started to write this story (in bed on a blue scribbler), and it shows  
you how I think up my plots. Enjoy, and PLEASE, feedback would be REALLY  
REALLY REALLY appreciated!!!!!!!  
Thanks,  
Galsan Blit / Leenie Jackson / Ford Prefect / Macco Kespr / Thawly  
  
Preface  
Welcome to Galsan's  
it's-damned-late-and-I'm-zarking-tired-and-i-freaking-hate-computers and  
i-have-a-headache bitter story that I   
feel like writing, and not completely exclude Teal'c like most evil scum do.  
But first I need a plot.  
Um.  
Not repeating-day things. That's too 3:30am-ish.  
No alternate universes, that's really really overused.  
No character deaths. Aside from Aral's hoopy little story, I'm sick of 'em.  
Crossovers.  
Hehehe.  
Trek? Hmmmm...it has possibilities. Maybe later, but not tonite.  
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?  
Yes, yes that will do nicely.  
Okay.....  
Gate....on Heart of Gold. Zaphod thought it looked pretty and bought it.  
Marvin? Oh, yes, let's include him in this. I'm getting tired of   
non-Marvin stories, and he's so fun to write for.  
Okay, then. Let's get started here. I'm in a better mood already.  
*ahem*  
"...And it Burns 150 Calories an Hour" by Galsan/Leenie etc., Started on  
October 7th -zark it, my pencil's running out of lead, good   
thing this didn't happen in the middle of those math or social tests- , 1999,  
10:45 pm.  
  
  
Story  
Part One: At the Base, Same Old, Same Old.  
Sg-1 was heading for -insert long and boring number that starts with a 'P'  
here-. (At least, I THINK it usually starts with a 'P'.) (Cos the P is for  
Planet??) (Oh, who the zark cares.) Another day, another routine mission.  
However, being that SG-1's 'routine missions' usually ended up with a lot of  
zat guns and/or staff weapons being used(which Jack liked), cultural problems  
(which Daniel liked), space/time anomalies (which Sam liked), and a whole lot  
of people running around and falling down (Teal'c liked that. He usually got   
to carry the people after they had fallen down. Teal'c liked to carry  
people.); it wasn't really all that comforting. Sam thought it might   
have to do with the 'lucky number one' or being Hammond's favourites or  
something like that. After all, if any of the OTHER teams -say, SG-6- got into  
trouble, they were usually all killed before anything could be done about it.  
(DUH! That's why the show is called Stargate: SG-1 and not Stargate: SG-6!!)  
In any case, they sent the M.A.L.P. out as usual, and got the usual  
results....trees, humanoid aliens peering at the M.A.L.P., trees,   
some interesting cultural junk, more trees, sky, yet more trees, and trees.  
(It seemed that all alien planets had a lot of trees, especially those of the  
species found in South-East British Columbia.)  
So, having gone through with that particular preliminary procedure  
("...and you adore alliteration ad nauseam!"), the team packed up -   
Jack with his extra stash of arsenal (a little bit more never hurt anyone, did  
it?), Sam with her copy of Quantum Mechanics for   
Dummies, Daniel with his handy-dandy pocket glasses cleaner, and Teal'c with  
his scented head wax - and walked through the   
Stargate, into an exciting new adventure (close captioning brought to you in  
part by Ben Moss Jewellers)!  
  
  
PART TWO: Take One Sip of A Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, Then Another, Then,  
-Hey, What the Zark Are Those Funny People Doing in My Ship? FORD...This is  
Your Fault, Isn't It!!!!!!!????  
On the bridge of the Heart of Gold, Zaphod was -as usual- mixing himself a  
hoopily newly-mixed Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. Marvin   
was in the corner, watching himself rust. Trillian and Arthur were drinking  
hot Earl Grey tea and playing Trivial Pursuit. Ford was   
examining the large object standing in the corner that looked rather like the  
Wheel of Fortune propped up and fixed on a little holder   
thingie and a ramp.  
Ford walked up to Zaphod, who was busy with his precious drink. "Zaphod?  
There's something seriously wrong with this circle   
thingie that you bought."  
Zaphod stared at him. "Circle thingie?"  
Ford sighed. "At that market, on Algerras B . . . there was a really pretty  
girl who sold it to you..."  
Zaphod nodded and smiled with both heads. "Right-o. THAT circle thingie.  
Zarquon, that was a pretty girl. I liked her hair. She had   
really nice hair. And she-" Ford cut him off "Listen, Zaphod, there's  
something.... strange with that thing. It is emitting power   
fluctuations that seem to come from nowhere! They're messing up the Electronic  
Thumb's readings. . . I think it might have   
something to do with the Improbability Drive. We really should get it off this  
ship!"  
Zaphod frowned, trying to concentrate. "Uh, yeah. Whatever. Wanna drink?"   
Ford sighed in exasperation. "This could be a serious   
threat. . . but still. . . ." Ford shrugged. He started to mix himself a  
PGGB. All the worries about the circle seemed to float away as   
he drank. Zark, he though, Why worry? Why not even have a little fun with it?  
He walked over to Arthur. "Hey, earthman. You see that   
circle thingie over there?"  
Arthur looked up. "Yes. Looks a bit like the wheel on Wheel of Fortune.  
Always liked that show. I've got tapes of it, back on Earth.   
Ah, Earth. God, how I miss it. The tea. The television. The little hotdogs  
that they would sell for a dollar outside the supermarkets in   
America. How I miss it all. There was this wonderful lake down by my house. I  
used to go down there on Sunday afternoons and read   
the paper. Of course, I never actually got to read it, because of the sand  
from the beach flying around and blowing in my face, and   
trying to find a comfortable spot, and chasing after my paper after the wind  
had blown it into the water, and trying to find large rocks   
to hold it down with, and then the . . . . . . . ."  
About fifteen minutes later, Trillian was snoring softly, and Ford had  
finished his PGGB and had enough time to get sober, thus   
completely losing any molecule of interest he may have hitherto invested in  
Arthur's droning. Arthur was just finishing up, in any   
case. "..... well, I know it doesn't really seem like I might have gotten much  
done at the lake, but it was, in essence, the image that   
matters most, and as a child I had always cherished the image of reading the  
paper down at the lake on a warm Sunday afternoon,   
the sun glinting off of the shimmery water, slowly beginning to descend in the  
East -or is it the West, I could never remember, but -"  
"Arthur," Ford interrupted, "you know that circle thingie over there?" Arthur  
started to reply, but Ford rushed on. "Well, it's been   
emitting streams of energy fluctuations for a while now. Arthur, I think it's  
gonna explode. It's gonna kill us all!"  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Arthur cried before huddling in a corner with his hands  
over his head, whimpering. Ford giggled. He loved   
doing that.  
Just then (suddenly!) (All of a sudden...) (At that moment-) (just then,) (i  
said that already, didn't I?), there came a loud sound from   
the circle-thingy. Ford whirled around. (Whirl!) (Whirl!) Out of the  
circle-thingy came a large stream of watery substance that was   
sucked back in a moment later. Zaphod looked up. The watery substance was  
replaced by a shimmering blue sheet that covered the   
opening of the circle. Trillian slowly stood up, frowning. Four figures  
appeared out of the blue shimmery thing. Marvin hummed a   
concerto that he had composed in the last few minutes to himself. The figures,  
which turned out to be people, stared at the group in   
confusion.  
One of the people stepped forwards. "Uh, hello. My name is Daniel Jackson. We  
come in peace."  
Trillian rolled her eyes. "Oh, and I suppose you want us to take you to our  
leader, too."  
Daniel stepped back. "Uh, what?"  
Zaphod stepped down from the controls. "What. The Zark. Are you doing. On.  
My. Ship. This is very, very, not groovy."  
One of the other newcomers spoke up, or at least he muttered to himself. "My  
god, I'm in a sixties BBC hell."  
"BBC?" Arthur perked up from the corner. "I used to work for them, back on  
Earth...."  
The blonde lady stepped down from the circle. "What IS this?"  
Zaphod frowned. "This is The Heat of Gold. The Heart of Gold is my ship.  
You are on the Heart of Gold. I don't like it when people   
are on my ship without asking!"  
The older man with the hat eyed Zaphod. "And who are you?"  
Zaphod looked insulted. "You mean you haven't heard of...." he paused for  
the right amount of dramatic tension. "The great Zaphod   
Beeblebrox? The ex-president of the galaxy? Inventor of the Pan Galactic  
Gargle Blaster?"  
"No."  
"WHAT? You...I...you haven't..." Zaphod spluttered.  
"Waidaminute, waidaminute, waidaminute," the hat man stepped forwards.   
"You," he pointed at Arthur, "worked on Earth? Recently? For the BBC?"  
"Yes," Arthur squeaked.  
"Sir," the woman said, coming to stand by the hat man. "This could be some  
sort of new Goa'uld army, from Earth of today-"  
"-Or Earth of the seventies and sixties. . ." the hat man interrupted her.  
"In any case," she continued, "something is obviously wrong here. This is NOT  
where the M.A.L.P went. There must have been some sort of interference, a  
space-time flux or something. I've never seen anything like it before."  
"Hey hey hey," Zaphod began, "you're from Earth? Zarquon, you're just a  
bunch of un-groovy strags. Therefore, I can ignore you." He turned back to his  
Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.  
Ford stepped forwards. "Okay. So you're from Earth. But did you leave  
before or after it was destroyed, or are you using some sort of time machine.  
And what does the Improbability Drive have to do with this?"  
The hat man frowned. "Okay, so you. . . we. . Earth was, uh, Carter, you  
deal with this."   
The lady glared at him, then turned to Ford. "Oookkaaayyy. So, uh, first  
off. Earth was...destroyed?"  
Ford shrugged. "Yeah."  
"Uh, WHEN?"  
"Hmm...." Ford frowned. "I don't remember what year exactly. Earth has a  
very different system of years from the rest of the galaxy. Sometime in  
the....late 1970s, I think. On a Thursday."  
Carter just stared at him. "The. . .late 1970s?"   
Ford nodded. "On a Thursday."  
The first one to speak, the glasses man, spoke up again. "And, um, why  
do you all have British accents?"  
Zaphod laughed with one head while the other continued to drain his  
PGGB. "Zarquon, man. Everyone who is anyone knows that the whole galaxy speaks  
like this if they speak English! Only backwater planets like Earth have  
accents other than this!"  
"No, no, wait," the lady said. "Where we come from, our reality or  
whatever -in which, by the way, the Earth has NOT been destroyed-, only a few  
of the worlds that we visit have people with British accents. For example,  
Teal'c here."  
"That is correct, Major Carter." The tall, bald man with a gold thing in  
the middle of his forehead spoke for the first time. Everyone turned to look  
at him.  
"Well," said Zaphod. "He's obviously from a backwater planet then, isn't  
he?"  
"No, here, I'll show you. Come with us, back through the Stargate."  
"You mean the circle thingie?" Zaphod looked puzzled.  
"Back to.....Earth?" asked Arthur tentatively. "Earth that....hasn't  
been blown up?"  
"Yes."  
"YES!!!!!!!"  
The lady looked around. "So, where's your DHD?"  
"Our what?"  
"Your Dial Home Device. You know? It's big, with symbols on it?"  
Zaphod scratched his left head. "I dunno. Was it supposed to come with  
this...Star Gate?"  
Ford glared at him. "I TOLD you it seemed too cheap! It's missing a  
part! That's the LAST time I'm going shopping with you!"  
"Well, that's it then. We're stuck here."   
"WHAT!!!" The hat man stared at the lady. "STUCK IN MONTY PYTHON  
LAND!?!?!"  
"Okay, wait, calm down, Jack," the glasses man took off his glasses and  
started to clean them on his shirt. (Why? cos they were dirty, that's why!  
Stop picking on Dannyboy!) We don't even know who you people are." He  
indicated the crew of the HOG. "Well, except for Mr. Beeblebrox."  
"Zaphod."  
"Oookkay."  
Glasses man -Daniel, right? Yeah, he said he was Daniel - looked around  
at he rest of them expectantly. Finally Trillian spoke. "I'm Trillian. I'm  
from Earth too."  
"I'm Arthur." Said Arthur. "Arthur Dent. Arthur Philip Dent. You're  
really from Earth?"  
Daniel just kind of smiled and nodded and ignored Arthur.  
"I'm Ford Prefect."  
"From Earth too?" The lady raised her eyebrows.  
"No. Near Betelgeuse. And this rusting heap we like to call Marvin."  
"Not," droned a rusty voice like a garage door opening, "that they  
actually like to call me anything. I'm not needed here except for menial  
labour. God, I've got a brain the size of a planet, and they want me to do  
menial labour. Can you see the irony in that?"  
He fell silent. "Marvin," Ford explained, "is a Genuine People  
Personalities robot prototype. It didn't work out. Long story. Now it's your  
turn. Who the zark are YOU?"  
"Well. . .I'm Sam Carter. You already know Daniel. This is Teal'c. . ."  
"And I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill. We're SG:1, which stands for Stargate  
Team One.   
"Hmmm...SG One," Arthur mused. "Like, Simon and Garfunkle One. Or Silly  
Geese One. Or Scarily Gangrenous One. Or-"  
"SHUT UP, ARTHUR!" Ford, Zaphod, and Trillian chorused.  
Jack ignored all of this. "We come from obviously a different universe  
or something from you," he continued, "and since Carter seems to be  
understanding that better than me, I'll just let her talk to you about that  
later. What I want to discuss right now is how we sent our M.A.L.P. out and  
saw a scene totally different than this?"  
"Well. . . ." Ford looked at Zaphod and saw that he was probably too  
wasted to talk, so he went ahead. "That would probably be the Infinite  
Improbably Drive. It...well, it basically takes the most improbable things  
that could happen and make it happen. Basically."  
Daniel pushed up his glasses. "Hmm. Maybe that's how I ended up with two  
sets of parents that died, one set in a plane crash and the other set by a  
piece of falling Styrofoam." (Sorry, I just had to address that issue. ;-P)  
"The Infinite Improbability Drive?" Jack snorted incredulously (probably  
just saying the name makes his head hurt!) "Well it better un-improbability us  
or . . ."  
"Look," Trillian interrupted. "Why don't we just get you guys somewhere  
to stay here for the night. I mean, there's nothing we can do right now, and  
our Fearless Leader isn't able to stand up. . ." From under the control panel  
Zaphod gurgled something unintelligible. "So here, I'll show you to your  
rooms, okay?"  
"Sure." Jack started to follow Trillian down the hall. Teal'c and Daniel  
followed him.   
"Uh, Mr. Prefect?"  
"Ford."  
"Yeah, well, I'd like to talk with you. You seem to know more about  
space travel and this Improbability Drive than anyone else. I'd like to  
discuss this alternate reality thing. Is that okay?"  
"Sure!" Ford leered at her. "I'll get us some drinks."  
"No."  
"What?"  
"No drinks. And if you think I'm going to sleep with you, forget it."  
"Zark. Ah, well. Here, I'll get Marvin to drag Zaphod out so we can be  
alone. . ."  
Sam sighed and fingered her gun. She had a feeling Ford didn't give up  
very easily.   
  
  
  
Part Three: Did You Know That Banging Your Head on the Wall Burns 150 Calories  
an Hour?  
Daniel, Jack, and Teal'c were all sitting around in the small white and  
green room that Trillian had shown them to. They has been there for an hour,  
and were incredibly bored and not-tired. Teal'c was 'meditating', Daniel was  
finding interesting new ways to wear his glasses (if that sounded sick, it  
weren't supposed to. Ya know, you wear your glasses upside-down and the whole  
world looks different! Or maybe i just have too much free time on my hands..),  
and Jack was banging his head slowly on the wall.   
Suddenly (all of a sudden. . . just then- no, I'm not going to start  
that again!) Sam burst into the room, glaring.   
"Hey, Carter!" Jack smiled, "What's happening?" (That phrase amuses me.)  
Sam looked as though she could strangle a goose. "The crew of this ship  
are the most ANNOYING people i have EVER met!"  
Daniel had his glasses held out in front of his face and was squinting  
through them. "Why?"  
"First of all, their so-called 'Fearless Leader' is an ex-hippie who is  
so drunk that he doesn't know which way is up! That's almost as bad as that  
Ford person who, though he may know almost as much about astrophysics as I do,  
uses every opportunity he can get to use some stupid pickup line on me.  
There's that amazingly dense tea guy who keeps coming up to me asking if I am  
sure Earth is really still there, and that perky 'Trillian' girl. Oh, and the  
android of theirs who just explained to me why the whole universe doesn't  
matter anyways, so why bother. AURGH!" Sam paced furiously around the room.  
Suddenly (i seem to like that word, don't i) the room stared to shake.  
Sam was thrown against the wall, Jack to the floor, Daniel to the ceiling, and  
Teal'c....well....he just stood there.   
"Holy Hammond!" Jack shouted (credits to Cap'n Kate and Ellsie), "What  
the hell was that?" He pushed open the door and started to run towards the  
bridge. It was rather amusing for Daniel and Sam to watch, as, since the ship  
was still shaking about, he would run a couple steps, then be thrown into a  
wall. Then a few steps more. Then he would crash into the floor. Then he  
lurched around the corner, and Sam and Daniel couldn't see him anymore. So  
they followed him, staggering like drunks down the hallway, trying vainly to  
keep any hold on the concept of balance that they could.   
Jack burst into the bridge to find Zaphod snoring slightly, Marvin  
humming to himself, Arthur in a ball in the corner with his hands over his  
head, Trillian trying to talk to Arthur, and Ford at the controls, pressing  
buttons frantically.   
Jack grabbed Ford by his collar and hoisted him up into the air, which  
wasn't too hard, since Ford was at least half a foot shorter than Jack. "WHAT  
the HELL is GOING ON?" Jack demanded.  
Ford grinned manically and pointed to the viewscreen. "Take a look for  
yourself!"   
Jack dropped Ford, who landed on his feet and went back to pressing  
buttons. On the viewscreen, which, Jack presumed, showed what was happening  
outside of the ship, there was a huge yellow blob. Little points of grey were  
shooting out of the blob and coming towards the Heart of Gold.   
Jack made a grab for Ford, but Ford moved back quickly. "Listen you  
little jerk, if you don't tell me what that blob is, I'm gonna . . . . just  
TELL ME!"  
Ford smirked. "It's a Vogon ship. It's attacking us. I'm trying to think  
of what we can use to get away from it."  
Jack turned as Sam and Daniel came rushing up. "So, here's the  
situation: we're being attacked by a yellow blob controlled by the 'Volgas' or  
something. The captain of this little vessel is, at the moment, passes out on  
that chair over there. We cannot get home, we're in the hands of an  
incompetent, idiotic British alien, and I'm going to check to see if there was  
any funny stuff in my coffee this morning!"  
"Sir," started Sam, but was interrupted by Ford as he saw Teal'c come  
into the room.   
"That's IT! Ha HA! You! Come here! Yes, you, the one with the golden  
coaster on your head!"  
Teal'c raised his eyebrow.   
"Okay, you're scary, right?" Ford pulled Teal'c over towards the main  
controls. Teal'c raised his eyebrow.  
Ford gave a grin that gave SG:1 the impression that he belonged in a  
huggy shirt. Then he got out a pair of holder things (ya know, those cooking  
utensils that you use to hold corn and stuff? They kinda look like scissors?)  
and rummaged around with them in one of the many stacks of paper lying around.  
He came up with a small piece of paper, and holding it as far away from  
himself as he could, held it out to Teal'c. Teal'c raised his eyebrow and took  
it.   
"It's Vogon poetry," explained Ford. "The third-worst kind in the  
universe."  
Teal'c raised his eyebrow.   
"What you do," said Ford, "is read it out loud when I say 'go'. The  
Vogons, upon hearing their horrible poetry back at them from a big scary guy  
with a coaster on his head, will be too terrified to do anything! So we can  
get away!"  
Teal'c raised his eyebrow. Ford moved over and pressed a button.  
"Okay...GO!"  
Teal'c stared at the paper and started to read. "The vordlebiggies of my  
tallumphias kudos, to eat the wumphering lulluos, they seer the maccoing  
kespeers."   
The Vogon ship stopped firing.  
"...Lispering trembles of chaos, it bellies an octurnal teacup."  
The Vogon ship started to back off.  
"...and, in triumphant vordlebras reigns, the ending maloflouos."  
The Vogon ship flew off.   
"Ha HA!" Ford yelled.   
"Great," Jack sneered. "You've managed to solve YOUR problem. But when  
it comes to finding the DHD. . . ."  
Ford ignored him.   
"Hey, guys," Daniel spoke up from over near Marvin. "This robot is  
really neat. I'd love to study all the information he has. Do you think that  
once we get back to the SGC we could take him with us for a while, Mr.  
Prefect? Just to study him. . . ." (aww...he's so cute. Can we keep him?)   
"Oh," droned Marvin, "Of COURSE. Not, 'Marvin, could you please visit us  
if you have some free time?' Not even 'Marvin, you're coming with us.' No,  
it's 'Mr. Prefect, could we borrow your robot?' Like I was a coffee table. Oh,  
yes, yes, start renting me out, why don't you. As if I were a used car. I have  
a brain the size of a planet, and all you want to do is charge an hourly rate  
for me. (That sounds sick. It isn't supposed to sound sick.) Next you'll be  
wanting to rip out my 'Dial Home Device' as you call it to make a matching  
pair with that Stargate over there. Why me? Oh, I loathe the day I was made."  
By this time, everyone was looking at Marvin except for Zaphod, who was  
accumulating a nice little pile of drool underneath his open, snoring mouth.   
"WHAT?" Jack stalked over. "You have a DHD and YOU DIDN'T TELL US?" He  
pulled out his gun and pointed it towards Arthur and Trillian. "Hey, Lady. You  
and Housecoat Guy there. Drag your little 'Captain' over there to that wall,  
and stand against it, hands up."  
"Hey! I happen to like this housecoat," squeaked Arthur from his corner.  
"Uh, Sir. . . ." Sam moved over to Jack. "What exactly are you doing?"  
"Making sure these. . . .people. . . . don't lie to us anymore. If they  
lied to us about the DHD, they could be in service of the Goa'uld for all we  
know. Hey! Ford, or whatever your real name is. Over there!" he motioned with  
his gun.   
"Actually," said Ford, walking calmly over to the wall with his hands  
up, "We didn't know about that. Marvin never tells anyone anything unless they  
ask."  
"Riiigght. Shaddup and get over there." Jack fingered his gun.   
"Colonel, I think they're telling the truth." Sam looked up at him.  
"Major, we're just gonna dial home and get out of here."  
Sam frowned and stepped away.  
"Okay, robot guy. Mickey. Get over here."  
Marvin slowly, grindingly stood up, as if it was the hardest thing he  
had ever had to do. He clanked over to Jack. "Okay. Dannyboy, you dial us home  
while I make sure these yahoos don't move."  
Daniel went over to Marvin, whose 'stomach' opened up, revealing a  
miniature DHD. Daniel started dialling.   
With a desperate yell, Ford flung himself at Jack. Teal'c promptly shot  
him with a zat gun. That ended that.   
"L-l-l-look," started Arthur, "You don't h-h-have to go uh, p-p-pointing  
those guns at us. WE haven't done anything wrong."  
SG:1 just stared at him. Gaining confidence from this, Arthur continued.  
"Whatever it is you're holding us here for, it isn't our fault. It was  
probably Ford's fault. It seems that everything is Ford's fault. And since  
you've um. . .dealt with him, you can just go home and stop pointing those  
guns at us. Uh, Okay?"  
The gate whirred into existence. Arthur cowered. "Sure," said Jack.  
"Bye."  
SG:1 stepped through the gate.   
  
  
Part Four: Epilogue.   
  
After the rather...interesting...debriefing, SG:1 decided that they  
would go back to the Heart of Gold and study it to see if they could find out  
exactly what the crew there had to do with the Goa'uld. However, when they  
dialled up that same long number that usually starts with a 'P', sent the  
M.A.L.P. through and saw the same small-village scene that they had seen  
before, and stepped through the gate, they ended up in that small village,  
with a lot of English-speaking people who had not yet encountered the Goa'uld.  
And a lot of trees.  
However hard they tried, no one at the SGC had been able to reproduce the  
anomaly that diverted SG:1 to the Heart of Gold. Jack thinks this might be a  
good thing.  
  
Part Five: Other Epilogue.  
  
The day after SG:1 left, Zaphod woke up, not remembering any of the  
visit and suffering from an awful hangover. Ford woke up saying that, really,  
those weird guns didn't have as much of a punch as Pan Galactic Gargle  
Blasters. Arthur sulked in his room for a week because he had just 'lost'  
another cute girl from Earth, when he was so sure that she liked his methods  
of cowering. Trillian went and played 'Solitaire' on the computer, beating it  
three times straight.   
And Marvin discovered that his memory banks had saved Earth's gate  
address.  



End file.
